We All Float On, Alright, Ok
by Your Iron Lung
Summary: Their relationship held no romance, no love, and no affection, and it'd probably stay that way for as long as they were engaged. But that was fine. Neither wanted it any other way.


They never kissed; Conrad wouldn't allow it. He didn't mind fucking, but kissing was too intimate a gesture he didn't want to be a part of. Worth didn't mind; never seemed to mind much about anything they did. It led the young vampire to wonder what kind of relationship (if you could even call it that) they had going, and where it would stop, for surely anything connected to Worth was bound to end. It aggravated him to know that the doc purely didn't give a shit when it came to matters of this nature, and left all that 'faggy nonsense' to him.

Their sex was, often times, very angry and rough. It was hard not to have it any other way when that blonde masochist kept starting arguments and biting out harsh remarks, and to be frank, Conrad hated it. Hated the fact that that senile old quack was able to rouse such anger out of him so easily and yet still manage to talk him into having sex. He hated that the stupid fucker actually _enjoyed _it when he lashed out and struck him, or managed to plunge his teeth into his neck and drain him near to the point of death. He really, truly, _hated it._ He wasn't a sadist, he didn't like feeding off Worth, or hitting him, or inflicting pain of any kind at all to anyone he knew, and it made him feel disgusting.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to quit. Worth just made it _so damn easy. _Sure, obtaining blood was a factor that kept him coming back, but there was just something about the way that Worth _needed _him that made his toes curl and his eyes shine, eager for his next visit to the office. It must've been thanks to his newly acquired vampire powers that allowed him to notice it, for Doc hid behind his walls of snide bitchiness so well, he probably wouldn't have seen it otherwise.

He wasn't always sure if Worth was aware he did these things or not, but it didn't matter; he saw them, acknowledged them, and acted on them, and this is where it'd gotten them. On bad nights when the workload had been tough and Worth was extra bitchy and said especially hurtful things, it was more apparent. As Conrad would turn to leave, his anger well above boiling point, Worth's fingers would come curling around the vampires arm in a way that just screamed 'Don't leave, I'll die if you do.' When he'd turn back to tell off the Doc and yank his arm away, a faint ghost of some emotion Conrad couldn't pin would flitter briefly across his sunken eyes, and how could he say no, then? When it was so blatantly obvious that Worth was lonely, and that he needed him, there was no way Conrad could turn that up.

Since his family didn't need him, this…'neediness' from Worth was kind of flattering, in a sense. For the first time in his life (living and after), it kind of felt like he had some sort of purpose. Even if his family didn't want him, Worth did, and that was alright. Of course, the Doc would never admit it ("I ain't no pansy like you, you pale freak o' nature!"), but that was part of his charm, and Conrad learned to deal with it.

I'm sure most of you out there are just dying to know how this all started, and I, as the writer, suppose it's my duty to tell you. It was just a normal blood run; Conrad was hungry and had gone to Worth's to pick some up. And of course, the doc being the doc, Worth had bit out some comment that had been marginally worse than usual, and Conrad had decided that he had had enough. He had made to storm out angrily, but before he could Worth had grabbed him and pulled him back, kissing him roughly on the lips before the vampire had any time to react. Like any decent heterosexual male, he had pulled back aghast and appalled, staring angrily at Worth who just stood back looking smug.

"Whatsa matter, boy? Afraid of the Big Bad Doc?"

His voice was so husky, and all Conrad could do was gape. Worth let out a chuckle and made to approach him again, leaning in for another go at his mouth. He was still paralyzed from the first kiss, but slowly regained control of his motor skills and pushed out against the Doc to glare at him.

"What is _wrong _with you? You honestly expect me to just go along with this when you're always-"

Worth had no time for words; they were meaningless. Conrad briefly put up a struggle, but soon gave up. Maybe it was all those years of pent up sexual frustration finally being breached, or maybe it was from people like Doc always messing with him, but whatever it was, Worth had obviously seen that weakness and gone about exploiting it the right way, for Conrad had become putty in his hands. Worth had enacted it the way a schoolboy did when he had a crush on a girl; by shoving mud in her face and making her eat it, the only way the Doc knew how. Conrad was fine with it all, but he had one condition, and that was no kissing. In his eye, kissing was meant to be a romantic show of affection, and he was sure there was none of that with what he and the Doc had. That didn't stop Worth from trying, though. He'd eventually give it up when Conrad showed that he was clearly not ok with that; he'd eaten enough mud, he didn't want the mouth of the boy shoving it anywhere near his.

Sometimes Worth wanted to fuck, and other times he wanted to _be _fucked. All during the deed he'd be whispering out in that gravelly smokers voice of his various insults and things to effectively get Conrad angry enough to act out on it. In the end, Conrad would feel like shit, but would still feel sexually satisfied; Worth always made sure of that. They usually fucked in Doc's office, and he never kept Conrad around when they finished, a gesture _he _felt was too intimate for what they had. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am.

Apparently tonight was different. Way, way different.

It started before Conrad had even stepped through into his office. The lights that were usually on were off, and it unnerved him more than it probably should have. He entered the darkened office warily and on edge, unsure of what to expect.

"Worth?"

His perceptive vampire senses detected some form of life towards the back, and when he directed his gaze in that direction he could see the glowing ember of Worth's cigarette. Sighing and rolling his eyes at Worth's dramatics, Conrad flipped on the lights. He was about to chastise the doc, but when he turned around to face him the words faltered on his tongue.

Worth looked, well, like shit. And that was saying a lot. He was sitting slouched over in his chair with his cigarette hanging precariously out of his slightly open mouth. His trademark fur-rimmed coat was nowhere to be seen, and his eyes that were already darkened by heavy rings were blood shot and significantly hollower than was the norm. He was oddly still, and if Conrad had had a working heart, he was sure it'd be beating right outta his chest in nervous apprehension. This wasn't like him at all.

"Worth?"

"Why do you keep coming back." His voice was gravelly, and Conrad could smell the alcohol rolling off him in waves. When Worth spoke, has lips barely moved, and it was decidedly creepy.

"I…what?"

"You know what I mean!" Worth stood up quickly, sending his chair toppling over. He looked angrier than usual, Conrad noted, as he took an uneasy step back. "What the fuck is this, huh? _What the fuck is this?"_

He approached Conrad rapidly and grabbed the stunned vampire by the shoulders with a strong grip, shaking him briefly. Up close, the young hipster could see the sleep deprivation outlined clearly in the bags under his eyes. Worth's actions had reached his brain before he'd had time to process the words coming out of the disgruntled Doc's mouth. When he finally had time to comprehend what was being said, he blinked dully.

"What the hell's gotten into you?!"

He tried to break out of Worth's iron grip, but the man just strengthened his hold, drawing him in closer till they were nose to nose.

"Don't fucking play around with me." There it was. That desperation Conrad had seen the first time they'd started this fuckship, but this time there was no mask to hide it. "What the hell're we doing?"

"Ow, fuck, Worth! Jesus, we're fucking, ok? Lemme go!"

"Then why do you keep coming back?" he roared, tossing aside Conrad as though he was nothing. The vampire landed with a thud onto the ground, looking up in time to see Worth storming into the back where he kept his surgery table, and several loud crashes broke the silence.

Conrad was still trying to get his brain to catch up with what had just happened when he heard Worth yell out loud curses accompanied with the sound of breaking glass. Immediately Conrad snapped back into action, charging in after his distraught blonde. When he came through, he saw Worth keeled over on the ground surrounded by a lot of broken glass, clutching one of his bandaged arms to his chest. Blood was seeping through the wraps and had begun to drip off onto the floor, causing a shiver to run through Conrad's spine; he was still hungry, after all.

"Jesus, Worth." Conrad bent down beside him to help, but Worth shirked away from the vampire's outstretched hand like it was poison.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" he tried to slide away using his uninjured arm for leverage, but his palm landed in the jagged mess and he cursed again.

Conrad tried approaching again, but Worth would have none of it. He kicked out against him, using his long legs to his advantage, but Conrad persisted. The stupid blonde bastard was going to royally fuck himself up if he didn't stop, and the vampire saw no other alternative as he reluctantly drew back his fist and let it fly and make contact between Worth's eyes. Dazed, Doc fell back against the floor hard, and the pale youth took advantage of the opportunity and to drag Worth away from the mess before sitting back with a sigh to study the worn out man who lay before him.

Worth was not unconscious, but when Conrad had delivered the final blow, it was as if any and all fight left in him had been punched right out of his system. He was tired, angry, bloody and damn well near his limit. His chest was heaving up and down sporadically, and Conrad had absolutely no idea what to do. He was afraid that if he tried to touch Worth again that he'd start acting up, so he waited. As soon as the doc was out he'd try and treat his wounds as best he could, but his attention was directed back to Worth as the blonde man spoke.

"The fuck're you doing to me…? I was fine before you came along and fucking ruined it all."

He was speaking barely above a whisper, and with one final raggedy breath, he finally let the fatigue from numerous sleepless nights and the alcohol in his body let him pass out peacefully. Conrad blinked once, then blinked again, trying to comprehend what the hell had just happened. He stared at the sleeping man before him trying desperately to understand what had caused it all; it was totally unprovoked.

'_The fuck're you doing to me…'_

And then it all clicked.

It probably wasn't so much that Worth had fallen in love with him (he doubted the man could even remotely begin to care for another being), but rather that Conrad had slipped through all his grids and defied all his logic and understanding of the way things worked. For Worth, you yell at someone and say mean things about them, and in return they're supposed to hate you and leave. But when the Doc had applied that reasoning to him, the vampire had bitten back. He'd broken Worth's perception of how things were supposed to work even way before they'd first had sex. Everything Conrad had done around him went behind everything Worth had ever known when it came to dealing with people, and he was torn up about it. He didn't know how to cope with it.

Conrad huh'd to himself as things started falling into place, and then he wondered about Hanna; Hanna kept coming back even though Worth spouted mean things to him, so why hadn't the Doc chosen him to be this…partner? Friend…thing? Then like a fool he realized it was because whereas Hanna just rolled over and took whatever Worth hashed out to him with a grin and a gnee, Conrad took it and threw it back. Worth had never been met with a recurring challenge in a person before.

There was no love in whatever it was they had, and there probably never would be. Instead where the love should have resided was a great big chasm of regrets and neglect, pits of loneliness and want that needed to be filled, and it just so happened that they were the only two who could stand one another to begin to fill each others hidden desires. Their relationship would be one of hurting and healing, slowly and methodically repairing themselves where others had failed them until that point in time came where they no longer needed it. Worth needed Conrad to help dig him out of that hole of isolation he'd made for himself, and likewise Conrad needed Worth to fill that sense of purpose. They were twined together out of hate and had quickly spiraled into something neither of them had predicted or necessarily wanted, but for now everything seemed to be all right.

"I'm helping you, you dumb fuck."


End file.
